Dragoncrest Cliffs dead men tell no tales

Shouts and snarls lifted suddenly, punching above the sound of the waves and catching the Tanzanite’s attention. She did not catch the words, but the timbre stopped her in her tracks and with a formidable growl, the jackal wheeled and headed back toward the borders, paws battering the ground like hammer falls.

A crew of wolves moved in, against the huddled crowd. Mireille moved to strike, and Chani too.

With cold air burning in her throat she loosed a war-cry, one to rattle the attackers and summon the strength of Sapphique with rallying spirit.

Her body told her it should not be so- battle was not for women, carrying child- but the sight of her sister’s fangs was akin to spotting a banner hoisted high, a call she would always answer.

She would crash among them with the force of a breaking wave.